After resting for a few days in Rus, Arabella was ready to start moving the goods.
Not long ago, she had made an arrangement with AE for a shipment of high-purity drugs to be smuggled.
In the current international climate, the cost of crime had risen dramatically. Governments, though willing, were powerless, each focusing on managing their own patch of land.
This resulted in a breakdown of communication between nations, leaving many trade routes unopened.
What couldn't be done through legitimate means could not be conducted through illicit channels either.
AE, a drug lord from the southern regions, could only trade within his territory. To spread the goods to other areas, he had to rely on Arabella.
The same went for several other major players in different regions. While the goods moved easily within their own territories, once they crossed into another, they needed Arabella's networks to make the trade.
Arabella had built her empire on blood and risk. Through sheer survival, she had created her own channels, walking the edges of the world and facilitating trade for others.
This was why governments across the globe kept a watchful eye on her.
By cutting off her intermediary sources, they could effectively strike at the united dark forces and unravel Arabella's hidden networks, eradicating local dark protections.
Not only did the authorities wish to eliminate Arabella, but the underworld had its own share of interests. After all, greed was universal—if there was a share to be had, everyone wanted their cut, and no one would willingly share with others.
Taking down Arabella had become a top priority for both the underworld and the authorities sides of the world.
AE now sought to distribute the drugs to four countries across the sea.
With the vast ocean separating them, attacking and retreating would be no easy feat. Moreover, Arabella had never stepped foot in that region before.
Before moving the goods, Arabella needed to reconnoiter the area.
The first time she surveyed an unfamiliar location, Arabella was cautious and meticulous.
She mentally reviewed the list of personnel before she discreetly singled out the leader in Rus.
He had been with her for five years, helping her carve out territory. Now he guarded one of her strongholds, a trusted ally.
"How long have you been using that Bramwell?" Arabella asked, dressed in the local robes of Rus, loosely tied with a belt. The neckline hung wide, revealing the smooth curve of her chest.
"I've been using him for over two years. I've thoroughly checked his background—there are no issues," The leader replied.
Arabella swirled the wine in her glass, briefly glancing at the liquid before clinking her glass with his. She drank it down in one go.
"Check again. Once you're sure, I'll take the men and go."
Having weathered the most difficult times with Arabella, the leader understood that she was preparing for something big, requiring reliable men.
He nodded, indicating he would double-check Bramwell's background.
While the leader investigated Bramwell, Arabella wasn't idle. She prepared to conceal her identity for the covert operation ahead.
When scouting an unfamiliar area, everything must remain secret—her movements, the people with her, their numbers, and their identities all had to be plausible.
She set out with Raven alone to shop in the town of Rus.
Arabella rarely went shopping, and Raven even less so.
So, she chose the largest commercial store in town, picking out simple, modest outfits for herself and Raven.
The clothes were unremarkable—just the standard attire from the four countries across the sea. As always, she preferred to blend in, not wanting to attract any attention.
While changing, Arabella embraced Raven's waist, her lips brushing his neck, almost whispering, "Go check Bramwell's identity. Once we're sure, the three of us leave tonight."
Raven held his breath, his teeth pressed against his tongue. In such close proximity, he fought the urge to swallow.
Unaware of his inner turmoil, Arabella continued to lean in, causing Raven's muscles to stiffen, his body tense with the challenge of maintaining composure.
He quickly turned his gaze away as her closeness heightened his discomfort.
After a hasty response, he moved his hand, adopting a pose as if to embrace Arabella. Through the reflection in the nearby mirror, he momentarily indulged in the self-satisfaction that stirred within him.
After an awkward moment, Arabella moved away and selected a top before swiftly entering a nearby dressing room.
Raven let out a deep breath, his Adam's apple moving as he suppressed his thoughts.
After finishing the shopping, Arabella decided to stay in the town for lunch. She picked a steakhouse, for she had always had a taste for meat.
The spacious, elegant atmosphere with a quiet private room suited her well.
Arabella chose a private room and noticed Raven, as always, standing quietly in the corner. She laughed softly and waved him over, "Come sit."
Raven hesitated for a moment, then sat down on the bench across from her.
Arabella flashed a constant smile and gestured for him to sit beside her. "Come here."
Raven's eyes shifted slightly, but he obeyed, sitting next to her. His posture was stiff, his muscles tense.
Due to the insufficient space on the bench, Raven's tall and broad frame made Arabella appear especially delicate when seated beside him. The narrow space and the unconscious brush of skin made Raven endure immense discomfort, struggling to maintain his composure.
Arabella, unfazed, leaned back in her seat, casually crossing her legs and playing with her knife and fork, smiling as she chatted, "You've always been so clean and efficient when eating steak, haven't you?"
Raven chewed his steak, all his focus on Arabella. At this moment, her every word seemed worth nodding to.
"Raven, has it been hard following me for all these years?" Arabella asked, patting his shoulder with a smile.
Raven was taken aback by the warmth in her voice, his face betraying a fleeting joy despite his attempt to mask it.
"To follow Master Unknown, it's never been hard," he declared loyally.
Before Arabella, his only other impulse was the carnal desire below his waist.
Arabella, pleased by his loyalty, reached out and took Raven's hand warmly, saying, "You and Albatross have followed me since childhood. You're my right and left hands—my people."
Her people.
Raven's eyes brightened. The rare display of affection from Arabella made him feel energized, his spirits lifting as he received this unexpected warmth.
He shifted his gaze from Arabella's fair hands to her face, then subtly glanced at her lips.
Her fair skin contrasted with her red lips, and though her features were not stunning, there was still an alluring grace to her posture.
Raven couldn't help but drool, quickly running through in his mind the image of him pinning Arabella down and ravishing her. His gaze darkened involuntarily.
Arabella observed silently, not letting a single subtle expression of Raven's go unnoticed. She focused all her attention on him, as if her gaze could penetrate to his very marrow, like a probing beam of light.
Only then did she retract her hand with satisfaction, enjoying the bloodied steak on her table.
It was steaming, bloody, and melted in her mouth—delicious.
She was always cautious to the extreme when it came to the unknown, something she couldn't control.
Even with someone like Bramwell, she would investigate and re-investigate, changing people to probe deeper. How much more so for those who were close to her.
Those who were supposedly "her people" were only so in body, perhaps only her shadow truly belonged to her.
And in the moment of death, once she fell, the shadow would never rise again.
A ghost has no shadow.
